Fields of Blue Flax (7 page)

She had been learning to make other soups too. And though the leek and tattie soup at supper the night before had been tasty enough, her favourite was the ramson soup they had made earlier in the spring. She and Cook had picked the wild garlic in the woods up the hill. It reminded her of home and she loved the strong oniony flavour that lingered even after she had scraped her plate of soup clean.

She looked back at the men. Mr Patullo was getting to his feet. She gathered up her skirts, rushed back over to them and began clearing the remnants away.

‘Thank you, Elizabeth,’ said Mr Patullo. ‘Will you tell Mrs Patullo I shall be home presently? We have only one more fence to repair.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘See you later, Elizabeth,’ said Fred, winking.

‘It’s Miss Barrie to you. Mr Patullo cuffed his farmhand around the head. ‘Now get yourself off the ground and back up the field to your work.’

Elizabeth put her hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle and headed round the field and up the grassy hill. Once she reached the farmhouse, she stopped and looked around.
Fields of blue flax stretched across the rolling land for as far as she could see. Surely even the sea could not be this blue, she thought, picking up her basket and running towards the hens clucking at the back door.

Chapter Eleven

2014

Gerry ripped the wrapper off a triangular cardboard pack and took a large bite from a beef sandwich.

‘I got you a tuna salad, but there’s an egg mayo too?’ he said, his mouth full.

Christine sipped her coffee and picked up a packet. Without looking to see what it was, she slowly pulled off the wrapper and nibbled at a sandwich.

‘So, Anna’s got to stay in until tomorrow?’

‘Yes, purely for observation. She’s not quite as shaken up as she was, but they want to keep her in overnight just in case.’

Christine nodded. ‘I’ll go down and spend some time with her after we’ve seen Jack.’

‘She was sound asleep when I went to see her just now but I’m sure she’ll wake up soon.’

Christine took another small bite of her sandwich and looked up at the ceiling. ‘So do we know who rammed them?’

‘All Sergeant Price would say was that the kids were in a stationary queue, having done all the right things, you know, slowing down gradually and so on, and some guy crashed into them at high speed, he reckons about sixty miles an hour. Funnily enough, he had to be checked out in A&E this afternoon too.’

Christine’s eyes opened wide. ‘Funnily enough? I wish he’d died. In fact, I hope he’s permanently brain damaged or has some horrible disability that’ll ruin his life forever.’

‘The policeman said he also had a child in the car.’

Christine swallowed. ‘Is the child okay?’

‘Think so. The man was just a bit shaken, that’s all.’

‘Shaken! After nearly killing my two children!’ Christine was shouting. ‘I could kill him.’ She gulped from her coffee cup. ‘Do we know anything else about him?’

‘No, and it’s not important at the moment.’

‘You’re right, sorry.’ Christine put the rest of her sandwich back in its package and pushed it away from her. ‘When can we get the kids’ bags and phones and things?’

‘I’ll phone the duty policeman later and find out. Got to see when I can go and check what’s left of the car too.’ He looked at the table. ‘D’you not want the rest of that sandwich?’

Christine shook her head and put down her coffee while Gerry leant over to pick up her leftovers.

There was a knock at the door. Christine leapt to her feet as Staff Nurse Yates entered. ‘Sorry to bother you but there’s three people outside – relatives of yours – who’d like to see you.’

‘It’ll be Doug, Mags and Lottie,’ said Gerry. ‘Do you want them in here?’

‘Sorry, they’re not allowed in here, but you can go and meet them outside ITU,’ said the nurse.

‘You go, Gerry, I’m not ready to face anyone,’ said Christine. ‘Why didn’t they just wait in Edinburgh till we gave them more news?’

‘Okay,’ said Gerry. ‘I’m sure they’ll understand.’

‘Don’t be long.’

Ten minutes later, the young nurse who had been by Jack’s bed knocked on the door and came in, smiling. ‘Mrs
Wallace, you can come and see Jack now.’

‘How is he?’ Christine said, rushing to the door.

‘Still sleeping but we can wake him up while you’re there. It’ll be good for him to see his mum.’

They walked together to the ward and into Jack’s room, where nurse Yates was waiting. Christine lifted her son’s limp hand and clutched it to her.

‘We’re going to wake him up, Mrs Wallace and see how he is.’

Christine watched as Jack slowly began to respond to the nurses, his eyes opening to slits. Christine smiled at him, trying to look cheerful.

‘Now, Jack, can you tell us your date of birth?’ asked Yates.

‘11
^th
of February.1990.’ A tiny voice.

Both nurses looked at Christine who nodded vigorously, her eyes keen.

‘Can you remember where you live, Jack?’

‘9A Market Place, Durham.’

‘And what about your postcode?’

Silence.

‘Ask him for his home address in Edinburgh. Durham’s just a student flat, he’d not know that.’

‘And where do you live in Edinburgh?’ urged Yates.

‘31 Craigleith Avenue.’

‘And can you remember the postcode?’

‘EH4 3…’ His voice trailed away.

As Christine beamed up at the nurses, she felt a little pressure on her fingers.

‘He squeezed my hand!’ she cried, elated.

The young nurse smiled and said, ‘He’ll need to sleep. It’s the only way he’ll get fully fit again.’

There was a tap on the window – it was Gerry and Doug. ‘He knew his address, Gerry.’ She said, beaming, as her husband entered the room.

‘Mags and Lottie have gone to see Anna,’ said Doug. ‘But I wanted to see Jack.’ His voice faltered as he looked down at Jack. ‘My God, is he… How is he?’

‘He’s going to be fine,’ said Chris, looking at Gerry. ‘He remembered his birthday – and his address.’

Doug was bent low over Jack. He pressed his lips tightly together, and his eyes welled up. ‘Can I touch him? I don’t want to hurt him.’

‘It’s fine,’ said Nurse Yates. ‘Gently.’

Doug took Jack’s hand in shaking fingers. ‘He’s really going to be okay? I was – we were – so worried.’ He shut his eyes and bent his head down as if in prayer.

Chapter Twelve

1872

‘Elizabeth, get the bone knife oot o’ the drawer. Come an’ I’ll show ye how to get rid o’ the hairs.’

‘What hairs, Mrs Malcolm?’

‘Dinnae call me that, have I no’ telt you often enough, it’s Jessie. We’re near enough family.’

‘What hairs, Jessie?’ They were standing in the dairy of Strathmartine farmhouse, leaning over the wooden table. In front of them was a large pat of butter. Elizabeth had just been shown how to make butter in the swing churn, then work it into a pat with wooden paddles.

‘The cows’ hairs. Even though there shouldnae be any, there’s aye some left in there, so here’s how I use the knife tae’ howk them out. And only use this bone handle knife here, mind, dinnae use any others.’

She did a few then looked at Elizabeth, whose eyes were cast down, concentrating on what the older woman was teaching her. She was a diligent child, she only rarely frowned, her cheerful mien part of her charm. She loved helping Cook and endeavoured to take each task seriously. Her other duties in the laundry and around the house she undertook with relish, as if the discovery of new things was life’s purpose.

Elizabeth took the knife from Jessie and continued with the task.

‘You ken the mistress is wanting you to start serving at table, maybe next Sunday when they’ve got the minister for dinner. What d’you think tae that?’

Elizabeth’s expression was eager as she looked up. She smiled at the diminutive woman who had become a mother figure to her since her arrival at Strathmartine the previous year. ‘Aye, if that’s what the mistress wants. I’ll need to hae some lessons on how it’s a’ done, mind. I’ve never served in the big dining room before.’

‘You’ll be fine, she’s been wanting you to serve at table for ages now, so we’ll maybe get you started tomorrow morning in the breakfast room. But when there’s visitors, just remember if anyone asks your age, you’re fourteen.’

‘Aye, you telt me, I’m not to tell anyone I’m only twelve.’

‘Just as well you’re sae tall, Elizabeth, you could pass for eighteen almost. And your mother’s no bigger than me; dinnae ken where you got your height from.’ Jessie shook her head. ‘You’re lucky, though you’ll need tae find a giant o’ a man to marry, they dinnae like to look up to us women.’

‘Dinnae want tae marry, men are stupid.’ Elizabeth put down her knife. ‘Well, no’ the master of course, but a’ the others are.’

Jessie laughed and began to wrap the butter up in squares of cheesecloth.

‘Will the mistress be playing the piano after dinner like she does sometimes?’

‘Aye, she likely will.’

‘It’s just that, maybe I could be allowed tae turn the pages for her? She cannae really dae that herself, can she?’

Jessie looked at her, frowning. ‘Now, what would a lassie like you ken about the piano?’

‘I ken a bit, enough to follow the music. I like the piano, I really do.’

‘Well, well, fancy that. I can mention it tae her if you like.’

‘Thanks. Shall I go and fetch the eggs now for the bairns’
tea?’

‘Aye, out you go. Mind and fasten everything up tight in the henhouse, I heard that fox roaming around again last night,’ said Jessie, wiping down the scrubbed wooden table as she watched Elizabeth skip off towards the henhouse.

Chapter Thirteen

2014

‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat a fried egg, Chris,’ said Mags, ‘and you’ve got three on your plate.’

‘Have I?’ Christine was in a daze as she sat down in the hospital café. ‘The woman at the servery just gave them to me. I can’t remember what I asked for.’

‘They’ll be good for you,’ said Gerry. ‘Here’s your coffee.’

Christine took the cup from her husband and nodded her thanks without looking at him.

It was the morning after the accident and Christine, Gerry, Mags and Doug sat around the table, eating. Very few words were exchanged. They all looked up as Lottie joined them with her tray. ‘So we’re getting Anna out after breakfast, Auntie Chris?’

‘Yes, sweetheart.’ She stroked Lottie’s wavy brown hair and looked down at her plate. ‘It’s Jack we just don’t know about.’ She cut into an egg and stared at the yolk as it oozed over the plate.

‘Sounds like it’s just concussion now. He looked better this morning.’ Gerry rammed a large bap with two sausages into his mouth.

‘He looked just the same, Gerry, and he was sound asleep. We have no idea how he really is.’ Christine winced as she watched her husband wipe a splatter of sausage grease off his beard.

‘I’ll go up with you after breakfast, if that’s okay,’ said Mags. ‘I never saw him last night.’

She turned to Lottie, who was spooning yoghurt on her
fruit salad. ‘Is that all you’re having, darling?’ asked Mags. ‘Could be a long day, why don’t you…’

‘Mum, I’m fine.’ Lottie’s long fingers strummed against the table as she turned to Christine. ‘Auntie Chris, when I’m finished, I can go and help Anna get ready. Then we can come and join you in Jack’s ward later?’

‘Thanks, sweetheart,’ said Christine, patting her niece’s hand. ‘Hopefully he’ll get out of ITU and into HDU later.’

‘Ever upwards!’ said Mags, forcing a smile. ‘And you guys just say when you want us to go. We don’t want to impose. We could drive back up the road and collect some things for you?’

‘It’s okay, Mags,’ said Christine.

They finished their food in silence.

‘Dad, are you okay?’ said Lottie. ‘You look terrible.’

Doug looked up through bloodshot eyes. ‘Slept badly, Lotts. I’ve got a thudding head – bloody Premier Inn and their promise of guaranteed sleep!’

‘I said you could have complained when that stag party started up in the corridor at three am. You’d have got your money back, it’s part of the deal,’ said Mags, patting his arm.

‘I know, darling, but I kept thinking they’d quieten down and then…’

‘And then they partied till dawn!’ Lottie pushed her half-finished bowl away from her. ‘Shall I go and get Anna out and you can go and see Jack, Auntie Chris?’

Mags screwed up her paper napkin and tossed it onto her plate. ‘I’ll come with you, Chris. Anytime you’re ready, let’s go.’

‘Now’s good,’ said Christine. ‘I can’t eat any more.’

At the door to the ITU ward, Christine and Mags found
Doctor Ali frowning over some notes.

‘Ah, Mrs Wallace, your son’s just been transferred to HDU, along the corridor there. Doctor McNally’s in charge, he’ll tell you what the latest is.’ She pointed them in the right direction and then hurried away, looking down at her beeper.

They strode along the corridor to the sign that read HDU and rang the buzzer then were taken to a bay of four beds. One of the beds was vacant and as Christine began to read the notes at the end of the bed there was a noise behind them. They both turned to see two nurses holding Jack in a standing position between them.

‘Jack, darling!’ Christine lunged towards her son and kissed him.

‘We thought he could try a little walk before we put the catheter back in,’ said one of the nurses, smiling, ‘and he’s done all right, haven’t you, pet.’

Jack sat down on his bed with a thump then lay back against the pillow.

‘How is he?’ Christine whispered.

‘Doctor McNally will be round in a minute, he can tell you himself,’ said the other nurse, pulling the curtains round the bed. She started to fit the catheter and Mags looked discreetly away. Once it was done, Christine gently adjusted the blankets around him and Mags came to stand beside her cousin as the nurses drew back the curtains.

‘Jack, you’ve given us all such a fright, sweetheart, but it’s all going to be fine now.’ Mags stroked his cropped dark hair.

Jack opened his eyes a fraction and gave his mother and aunt a flicker of a smile.

‘Jack, darling,’ said Christine, grabbing his hand, ‘it’s so good to see you awake!’